This Story Is Infinitely Untitled
by xlonelytylenolx
Summary: Mark finds just the thing to get his mind off of Roger...mostly. about 1 or 2 years postRENT, slight RogerMimi and RogerOC, not so slight MarkOC and MarkRoger
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** although there's been mention of Mark showing up in my mailbox, he hasn't arrived yet. Sadly, I don't own Roger either. Or Mimi. Or anything else having to do with Rent. But if you want to mail any of this stuff to me, feel free.

**Author's Note:** I know it gets a teency bit cheesy towards the end. I think it was kind of needed, and I promise it won't all be like that. Since this is a finished story I've already posted on LJ, i'm probably not gonna put author's notes at the beginning of each chapter, just know that the pairings get kind of crazy in this one, but i promise it will all make sense. lol...it's just a lot of hinted stuff. and i promise it as a Mark/Roger story. even though there's a lot of Mark/OC

* * *

Mark wasn't sure when it had started. He could barely remember a time before his mind had been consumed with thoughts of Roger. When had the lines become blurred? When had he starting aching for Roger to be more than his best friend?

There had been times when he'd though they'd had "moments". These moments always gave Mark cause for hope, though Mark was forever uncertain as to whether or not this was a good thing; though Mark was forever uncertain as to whether or not he made up these moments in his mind.

There was one moment he could pinpoint in particular. He was sitting on the couch in the loft. Across from him sat Roger in a chair, sporting April in his lap. The couple was having an intimate moment, with Roger softly placing kisses on April's cheek and jaw line before moving down and gently massaging her neck with his tongue. At first the couple seemed to be in their own world, and Mark felt a bit awkward sitting in the room as it went on. But Mark couldn't help but stare at Roger, lovingly kissing April's neck, wishing Roger was ravishing him instead.

Suddenly their world was broken when Roger looked up. He continued with what he was doing, but he was no longer concentrated on that. His eyes met with Mark's and Mark couldn't help but think he saw longing in them. _Longing_. For _Mark_. The two of them kept their eyes locked like that for a long time, all the while April sat oblivious, head tilted and eyes close in ecstasy. It had seemed so surreal, and Mark wondered on many occasions if he had imagined Roger looking up into his eyes completely. But no, it was too vivid. It had happened.

But Mark never acted on his passion. No, that was too risky. Mark preferred to sit behind his camera and record Roger. If he kept himself out of the picture, it was almost as if Roger was a fictional character. It was easier to love a fictional character and to watch him love someone else, than to love someone real with a longing and desire that was almost painful. Scratch that. It was painful. _Really_ painful. When Mark let himself realize that Roger was a real human being, and that Roger had love, passion, and desire for someone else, the agony he felt was unexplainable.

And Roger always had something to be preoccupied with. Roger had April. When April died, Roger had heroin withdrawal. When that was done with, Roger had Mimi. Mark had removed himself enough from loving Roger, the real person, that he was able to let his love for Roger slip away. He was over Roger now. There would always be something there, but in between falling in love with Maureen, and watching Roger fall in love with April and Mimi, he'd gotten over him. The relief he felt from it at times was remarkable.

And of course, there was another moment that stuck out in Mark's head. It did have something to do with Roger, but not directly. Mark knew it was cliché, but he couldn't help but make "it's funny the way things turn out" his new creed.

One night Mark was at one of Roger's gigs. Roger had a new band and they were incredible, though Mark particularly appreciated the fact that none of them were drug addicts. Mark was sitting at the bar, away from the overwhelming crowd, just listening and staring. It had been a while since he had stared at Roger like that; since he had let himself stare at Roger like that. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped himself and glanced around.

Mark noticed a girl sitting a few stools over, entranced in Roger the way he had been. He was feeling bold, and he needed to do something to keep his eyes away from Roger. He moved over a couple of stools and sat next to her. "Beautiful, isn't he?" He asked. Okay, so maybe it was a pretty half-ass attempt to get his mind off of his best friend.

But the girl didn't hear him. Either that, or she had ignored him. Mark was left in an awkward situation. It was embarrassing to repeat what he said, in case she had actually heard, but it was also uncomfortable to sit next to a stranger in silence as she stared at the man of his dreams. Suddenly she flinched, blinking and darting her eyes. "I'm sorry, what?"

Mark was taken aback. "…Oh. You heard me?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just sort of spaced. I do that a lot." She giggled nervously, obviously embarrassed. Mark thought it was cute. "Did you ask me something?"

Mark noticed she was fidgeting. It reminded him a lot of himself in social situations, but in this moment he felt oddly confident. "I said, 'isn't he beautiful?'"

"Mm-hm." She said in agreement. "His voice is just…godly, almost." She looked up and smiled at him. Her smile was bright and caused her brilliantly deep blue eyes to light up. She was _pretty_.

"Godly." Mark said, smiling back. "He would probably agree with that." He laughed.

"I'm Anna." She said, putting her hand out.

"Mark." He replied, taking her hand in his to complete the gesture. "Wow, handshake. I think you're the first girl I've ever met to shake my hand as an introduction." He jested, laughing lightly.

"Does that mean I failed some sort of test?"

"Not at all. Actually, I think it's kind of cute." This got Anna to blush.

Mark and Anna talked through the rest of the gig. Afterwards, they went out for a bite to eat with Roger and Mimi. And that was the start of something beautiful. Mark and Anna, they just seemed to fit.

Anna was a little bit younger, a senior at NYU studying to be a psychologist. She was a singer and actress at heart, but she had taken the more sensible route due to her own inner practicality and the lack of support from her parents. Mark hardly ever noticed the age difference. Anna was intelligent and mature, and she had this incredible lightheartedness about her that Mark didn't think had anything to do with her age. It wasn't long before Mark was calling Anna the best thing that ever happened to him.

Anna even got along with Roger, which was something Mark had hoped for but wasn't exactly expecting. Roger could be difficult. But Anna and Roger had instantly bonded, cracking jokes about Mark's quirks and talking about music. Anna and Roger wrote songs together; they sang duets to his guitar. Their voices blended so beautifully – so powerfully. Roger was impressed that she knew so much about rock music, and Anna was impressed that the rock god she'd seen on stage had such a kindness about him.

Everything seemed right with Anna. Mark barely seemed to think about Roger in a more than friends way anymore, for the most part. Things were going good.

Mark certainly hadn't been talking about Roger's voice when he'd asked Anna if Roger was beautiful that night, but he would never tell her that. In the long run, he was sure glad she had interpreted it that way. It's funny, the way things turn out.


	2. Chapter 2

As time went on, it was apparent that Anna didn't get along with _everyone_. On the contrary, Anna and Mimi despised each other. Anna hated Mimi because she was a drug addict, and Anna felt that Mimi was slowly killing Roger, who Anna had come to be very close with. Roger also had suspicions that Mimi was cheating on him again, which he vocalized to Anna and Mark on several occasions, hurt and pain evident in his eyes even if he had been trying to brush it off like nothing.

Mimi hated Anna because of that closeness she had with Roger, naively mistaking friendship for love. She had some crazy idea that Anna being with Mark was all some clever ploy to win over Roger's affection.

One day the four of them were sitting around the loft. Roger and Anna were perfecting harmonies to some old school rock and roll song, Mark was capturing the whole process on film, and Mimi was just sitting there looking bored and annoyed. Suddenly Mimi got up in a huff and stormed out without a word, slamming the door on the way out.

For a while Roger, Anna, and Mark just sort of stood there exchanging confused glances. Then Anna vocalized this confusion with a "What!" to which Mark replied with a pensive "Hm…"

They all burst out into a fit of giggles. Trying as hard as she could to stop laughing and put on a "serious face", Anna asked, "You gonna go after her, Roger?"

Roger thought for a second. "Nah. She's probably just going to shoot up, find a hot guy to fuck, accuse me of sleeping with you. You know the drill."

"Oh, in that case we might as well confirm her suspicions. I'm sorry, Mark, I'm going to sleep in Roger's bed tonight, kay?" She said, the giggling now returning in full blast. She put her arms around Roger, possessively.

"Okay." Mark said, shrugging.

"Well, we have my boyfriend's permission. We might as well hop to it."

"I'll film!" Mark called out, raising his hand. The three of them erupted into a storm of laughter, with Roger literally keeled over.

Anna let out the last of her giggles. With a sigh, she reluctantly stated, "Well, I have to go to class." She picked up her backpack and walked to the door, but was stopped by Mark.

"I don't want you to go."

"You're cute. But there's this thing, 'education' I think they call it. I sort of need one." She said, kissing him on the cheek. As she opened the door he pulled her back in for a deep, passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, they grinned at each other and then she left. When she was a couple steps down the hall and hadn't heard the door shut, she turned back and looked at him. "You could use a breath mint, you know!" She yelled, laughing before she ran down the stairs and out of sight.

Mark came back inside, grinning childishly. "Cohen, you're giddy like a school girl." Mark turned bright red, but didn't deny it.

"I think I love her."

"Yea…I probably could have told you that like two months ago."

Mark couldn't help but detect a little bit of sadness in Roger's eyes as he said this. Of course, the little bit of him that was still in love with Roger made his heart jump a bit. Then he realized Roger was probably sad because of Mimi.

"Hey, you wanna talk about Mimi?" Mark asked, the way he always did. It didn't matter to him that Roger never wanted to talk about stuff when he was upset. If there was a chance Roger needed to talk, he had to know Mark was there.

"What's there to talk about?" Roger shrugged, and walked back to his guitar, picking it up and playing a small bit that Mark had never heard before.

"Well, you guys are obviously having some problems. I know you don't like to talk, but if you need me to help you sort things out I'm right here, you know?"

"There's nothing to sort out. Mimi's just…Mimi. I'm done with it. I'm done with the lies, the drugs, the cheating. I'm done with the accusations. I'm just sick of all her shit," Roger practically spat. Then he played a few more notes, humming a melody to himself as he went.

"Oh. So you guys are like…"

"Through. I should probably break up with her soon. This has been coming for a while, it's just…good sex."

Mark nodded his head in response, kind of an "I feel ya" but he was too white to say that out loud. "Is that a new song?"

"Yea, you like?" Roger got really excited at the mention of his music.

Mark nodded his head enthusiastically in response. "Yeah. A lot, actually."

"I wrote it for your girl. She's inspiring."

"Mmm, she is, isn't she?"

"No. I just said that because I wanted to tell a lie."

"I thought so." Mark said, followed by a yawn. "I think I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Aww, is cute little Marky all worn out?"

Mark just hit him lightly on the shoulder before turning and walking to his room. As he opened his bedroom door, it occurred to Mark that his best friend might possibly be in love with his girlfriend; that Mimi wasn't one hundred percent crazy. He tried to shake the feeling, especially considering how utterly twisted that would be. He had a hard time believing he was in love with two people, and it was possible they were falling in love with each other. The thoughts didn't stop him, however, from tossing and turning for an hour rather than taking a nap.


	3. Chapter 3

About two weeks later, as Anna came up the steps to the loft she was greeted by the angry, booming voice of Mimi Marquez.

"FUCK YOU, ROGER. _You're_ breaking up with _me_! That's a riot. That's a fucking riot. You don't know just how good you had it, Roger Fucking Davis." Anna calmly swiped past her, ignoring the death stare she received. She gave Roger (who seemed pretty nonchalant for someone having a heated breakup) a half amused, half "good luck" look, and brushed past him into the loft where she found Mark sitting calmly at the kitchen table, sipping a tea.

"You think too highly of yourself, Mimi. You're not all that." Came Roger's softer, calm response. "I'm in love with someone else. I thought I could get past it, but I can't. And I don't want to pretend to love you anymore."

At this Anna gave Mark a confused look. Mark just shrugged in response. He then offered her a sip of tea, to which she made a face and stuck out her tongue. "Tea. Ugh." She said, shaking her head in disgust. He laughed because he'd known that would be her response.

"I knew it. I knew you were in love with that, that…_floozy_ Mark is dating. Well you two fucking deserve each other. Have fun fucking over your best friend."

Now Roger's voice was loud and heated. As Mimi stormed to her own loft, he yelled after her, down the stairs. "No, Mimi. I am not in love with Anna. And she's not a fucking floozy. Compared to you she's a fucking celibate. You're just a whore, Mimi; a slut and a whore." At these words, Anna and Mark began to look at each other, both sensing the same hilarity and ridiculousness of the fight they'd been hearing; both trying mercilessly to subdue their laughter. "Go to hell for all I care. You probably will soon, with the AIDS and the drugs and the sleeping around."

Somewhere inside all of them, they'd known Roger had taken that last line a little too far. But when Roger came back in, he saw Mark and Anna trying desperately to contain their laughter and to convey solemn, sympathetic looks, and he couldn't comprehend what the hell just happened. He was angry and happy and scared and felt like an asshole. He took one look at their faces, and broke out into a fit of laughter, which relieved the tension in the room, forcing all three into hysterics.

After the laughter died down a bit, Mark put a hand on Roger's shoulder. "I know this has been a long time coming, but are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm great. I feel free, in fact." He replied with a wide grin.

Mark nodded in happy relief. "Okay." He said, moving from Roger to take Anna into his arms from behind and kiss her on the cheek. He noticed how Roger's smile faded almost immediately. _God damn it!_ Mark thought to himself. _What the hell does he see in her!_ Then he realized what a stupid question that was. _Okay, I know exactly what he sees in her._ He thought as he squeezed Anna a little tighter.

"Mmm. Well, hello to you, too!" Anna let out, surprised. She turned her head and kissed the side of his chin, which happened to be the only thing she could reach. "Let's celebrate!" She yelled excitedly. To call Anna ecstatic at the thought that Mimi wouldn't be around anymore would have been an understatement.

"Yeah," Roger said with equal enthusiasm. "Where do you want to go?"

"Korea!"

"That sounds like fun," Mark humored her, "but how about the Life?"

Anna sighed playfully. "I guess that'll have to do."

* * *

"You guys, let's make a toast!"

"A toast?" Mark inquired.

"Mm-hm! We're celebrating. It's only fitting." Anna said, sounding childish.

"Okay," Mark said, raising his glass. "To Bohemia!"

Roger clinked glasses with him. "To being the third wheel!"

Anna clinked glasses with both. "To Korea!"

"You are so weird." Mark said, putting his arm around her. "And that's why I love you."

"Hee, you love me." Then, like it had just sunk it: "Oh, hey. You love me?"

Mark's cheeks turned bright red. "Heh. Yeah, I was hoping you'd catch that."

"Well, I love you, too." And Mark kissed her softly, but passionately.

"You two really make a guy want to puke his brains out, you know?" Roger chimed in. It was clearly meant as a joke, but Mark could tell that there was a slight truth in his words. Roger was hiding it well, but he was exasperated and sickened. Mark knew him too well not to see it.

* * *

A few hours and three slightly inebriated human beings later, Mark, Roger, and Anna were sitting in the loft talking and laughing. Considering they were all a bit tipsy, it was more like a giggle-fest.

"Hey, let's have a threesome!" Anna blurted before immersing herself in an enormous onslaught of laughter.

_God, yes! _Mark thought, blushing. Out loud he said, "A…umm…a…threesome?" as his voice cracked.

"Heh, relax there, Mark. I think your girlfriend was just kidding." Roger looked at Anna and said, "Unless…" She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Cause, you know, it's not like I wouldn't be game for it or anything." Mark's heart stopped. "Just, call up another chick, Anna, and you got yourself a deal. No way am I sleeping with Mark!"

Mark felt a sting but he held it back. Jokingly, he batted his eyelashes saying, "What? Am I not pretty enough for you?"

"Yes, that's it. It has nothing to do with the fact that you're a dude. Actually, it's because you're Jewish."

"That was harsh." Mark replied with mock-offense. "I'm hurt. Really, I think I might cry."

"Mazel Tov," Roger tried to say, but between the alcohol and the lack of Judaism it sounded more like "Marta Toff", "but now that I've told you about one of my fantasies, I think it's time I hear about one of yours."

"Umm…I don't really… Wait. Having a threesome with my girlfriend is one of your fantasies!"

"You know I'm Jewish too, right?" Anna added.

"That's okay. Pretty girls are allowed to be Jewish." He then turned his attention back to Mark. "But come on now, Mark. Tell us your fantasy. I wanna know what makes you pop." As Roger said this, he made an appropriately vulgar gesture.

_Well, I never thought about it before, but Anna put that lovely idea of a threesome into my mind…_ "Umm, I don't know." Mark was sweating now, clearly nervous.

"Oh, Mark. It's just me and Anna. We know you inside and out. Whatever you say probably won't even surprise us." _You have no idea_, Mark thought. "Besides, if you tell your girlfriend your fantasy, you might just get what you want." Roger concluded, a cocky grin on his face.

"I have a fantasy." Anna stated, stepping in to save her boyfriend from what he clearly viewed as impending doom.

Roger raised his eyebrows. "Do you? So tell us, Anna. What is this fantasy?"

Anna's cheeks began to flush. "Well…I like…" Her voice got lower and less confident, as she mumbled out, "gay guys." She blushed profusely.

"What was that?" Roger had heard, he was just an asshole when under the influence of alcohol.

"Gay guys. I've just always wanted to be in the same room as two beautiful boys kissing each other."

"That's…weird."

"Hey, guys like lesbians!" She shot back, defensively.

Roger shrugged. "Good point." Suddenly he looked at Mark, his face encased in a smirk. "I have an idea."

Mark didn't like the look Roger was giving him. "…I'm going to regret asking this, but what is it?"

"Well, she wants to see two beautiful boys kissing. We're two beautiful boys. Well, at least _I'm_ a beautiful boy. But, uh, Anna seems to think you are as well. Anna might be insane, but that doesn't change that fact that she's the one who has to think the boys are beautiful."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Anna, do you want me and Mark to kiss?"

Anna's eyes went wide, a bright smile forming on her lips. "YES!" Then she went back to giggling.

"So, Mark…"

Mark shrugged. "…Okay."

Roger couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd expected Mark to protest, especially after he wouldn't even share his fantasy. Now he was so easily persuaded to kiss a guy? Alcohol has strange effects on people.

At first the kiss was stiff and nervous: neither of them were homophobic, but neither of them were exactly heading the gay pride parade either. Then the kiss became tentative and questioning: they were both becoming a little more comfortable, especially upon realization that they weren't alone in that comfort. Slowly but surely the kiss became more passionate. A head tilted to deepen the kiss, a hand reached around to bring the other's face closer, lips and tongue and teeth became tangled in a mesh of need and desire.


	4. Chapter 4

Anna watched as her boyfriend kissed his best friend. She watched the nervousness, which she found adorable. She watched as they settled into a more comfortable state, which she found interesting and strangely sexy. She watched as their lips collided, passion and heat consuming them. She watched as Roger slipped his hands around Mark's waist and pulled Mark closer. She watched Mark's complete and utter lack of protest. She watched – and the world around her came tumbling down.

Anna's heart sped up and she felt as though she couldn't breath. The walls around her were closing in. In a sudden rush of panic she ran to the bathroom, spastically tripping with a giant thud. She looked back as she got up, and there was Mark and Roger, still enthralled in each other, locked at the lips. They hadn't even noticed. That didn't exactly help her calm down.

She slammed the bathroom door closed and fumbled to lock it. She thought it was silly, since they were most likely clueless to the fact that she'd even moved, but she did it anyway. She found her fingers digging into the sides of the bathroom counter as she fought to catch her breath, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. That's when she realized she was crying. Not just tears, no. They were heartbreaking spasms of emotional turmoil, forcing her cheeks flushed, her beautiful eyes crystal blue and bloodshot, and her lungs oddly dysfunctional.

Not knowing what else to do, Anna turned on the sink. She stared at the water, rhythmically flowing, letting herself become lost in it. She submerged her subconscious into the small waterfall, letting everything slip away. Finally she broke from her trance and slipped her fingers under the pouring spout, gasping at the cold shock. Instead of pulling away, she kept her fingers there, and after a few seconds she brought her face down and ran the freezing pool in her hands over it several times. She didn't know why, really. It was all she could think to do.

Finally, she sat against the bathroom door, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth, willing herself to calm down. It worked. The tears began to subside. Her breath, though shallow and uneven, became easier to retrieve. She let the pain fall away, numbness settling in as she thought about the events that had just occurred. How had she let that happen? She had known Roger was in love with Mark. Yes, she had known. But she never expected Mark to be in love with Roger. Mark was hers. Mark _loved_ her. She thought it would be harmless. Watch two cute boys kissing, while Roger got a little something he'd been longing for, for god knows how long. But how long had Mark been longing for it? Everything was wrong now. Everything.

* * *

They both realized in the same moment that they had taken it a little too far. Of course, neither of them realized they were both thinking the same thing, but they were. They both knew they had taken too much from something that was supposed to be a game, and they were both uncertain as to the intentions of the other.

When the kiss broke, both of them just stood there with hard faces and eyes searching. But after a second, Mark looked away, afraid of what he might find. That moment defined the kiss for Roger. It showed him what he'd suspected. The kiss had only been one-sided. Mark had probably pictured Roger as Anna to even be able to stand it.

That moment sent Mark into a minor panic. As he looked away from Roger, he noticed something. "…Where's Anna?"

"Wha…?" Roger looked around. "We lost our audience?" He was trying to stay normal. He had to show Mark it didn't mean anything to him either.

"Was there a thud? I heard a thud. Did you hear a thud?" Mark babbled, suddenly feeling wracked with guilt. Anna could be hurt, while he was kissing his crush far too passionately. He felt dirty. He'd never cheated on anyone before, and though he really hadn't now, it sure felt as though he had.

"Anna?" He called, panic evident in his voice. "Annnnnnnna." Upon seeing the bathroom door closed, he ran to it and knocked enthusiastically. "Anna?" he asked, more calmly this time. He got no response but he could hear her shallow breathing through the door. He tried to open it, but found it was locked. "Are you okay, sweety?" More breathing. "I'm really worried here, you gotta talk to me."

Anna couldn't speak at first. She groaned softly, before producing real words. "Yea…I – I'm fine. I just got a little dizzy from the alcohol, is all. I had to sit down." It was a complete lie. The effects of the alcohol had slowly begun to wear off over half an hour ago, and there really wasn't any left in her system at this point. But she had sounded convincing, and that was all that mattered.

"Okay, honey. Why don't you come out and I'll take care of you?"

"Okay, I'll be out in a sec." Anna slowly stood up, gave herself one last look in the mirror – eyes slightly bloodshot and cheeks slightly pink, but it could pass as a tipsy moment – took her last few long, calming breaths, and left the bathroom leaving all of her thoughts and pain and tears behind.

* * *

Later that night as Anna and Mark settled in bed, Mark began to place sweet little kisses over Anna's neck and shoulders. He then rolled on top of her and kissed her deeply, sensually. His intentions were clear, and maybe Anna could even tell why. He wanted to give her pleasure like never before. He wanted to make up for his moment of temptation, even if he believed she thought it was innocent. He wanted to show her she meant everything to him. But she stopped him.

She pushed him back, rolling their bodies until they were on their sides facing each other. She let out a small sigh, unsure of what to say. "I…have to ask you something."

Mark looked at Anna, confused. He searched her eyes and could see she was in pain, emotionally. "Sure." He said, his voice wavering a bit.

Not knowing how else to go about it, Anna put it bluntly. "Are you in love with Roger?"

She had caught him off guard. That was not at all what he was expecting. Mark's face was encased in shock and he pulled back a little bit as he let out a very jerky, "Wh – what?" He managed to gain his composure a little, and quickly stepped in with a "N – no." Then firmer, "No. I'm not. Why would you even think that?"

As soon as he said it he felt this knot in the pit of his stomach. He'd never really lied to her before. Anna had a very strict honesty-only policy, and she never got mad as long as you told her the truth. What really angered her was a lie. Anna didn't care if you called her ugly or fat, as long as you meant it and you weren't trying to be malicious. But something told Mark this was not something to be honest about. This would really hurt her, and it wasn't as if he was willing to give up Anna to pursue a relationship with Roger, so why even stir that up?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Where is this even coming from?"

She sighed again. "Well, you know how when Roger was breaking up with Mimi he told her that he's in love with someone else?"

"Yes, but – "

"You know he meant you, right?"

Mark looked at Anna in complete and utter confusion. His head was spinning. "No. He can't – I mean, that – that doesn't make any sense." Mark laughed a little, nervously. "I mean, I thought he was in love with _you_."

Anna actually snorted. "Oh, Mark. For someone so observant you can miss the most obvious things."

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You think that Roger is in love with me?"

"No. I _know_ Roger is in love with you."

"How?"

"We've talked about it. We talk about it a lot, actually. But that's not the point. I need to know that this doesn't change anything between _us_. And you have to just be honest with me because I'm scared, Mark. I mean, what am I supposed to think? That kiss was… _something_. If you're going to leave me, just do it now. Do it when it makes sense to me. It's going to hurt no matter what, because I _really_ love you."

Mark looked at her, uncertain, but ultimately went with his gut. "Look, Anna. That kiss was nothing. I promise you that. It was just a kiss. I got caught up in the heat of it and that's all. I would be lying to you if I said I'm not attracted to Roger, but it doesn't matter because I'm _in love_ with you."

"Okay," Anna calmly stated, a small smile on her lips. "I believe you."

But she didn't. She knew in her heart that Mark was in love with Roger, but she also knew that Mark was in love with her and he wasn't straying. As time went on Anna could see a conscious effort in Mark to stay away from those small, friendly touches him and Roger once shared. But it was always there in the back of her mind. From that moment on, she never really felt like Mark was hers anymore. She felt like she was keeping him from something great, but at the same time she just couldn't bear to let him go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** This takes place about 6 months later

* * *

_Noise._

Music? No. An earful of delight? No. Rock and roll? No. It's a pure chaotic mess of noise. Roger's drummer has been sick for two weeks. Before that his bassist was sick for one week, and before that Roger was sick for three weeks. And they're using the loft as rehearsal space, for the first time in over a month. How quaint.

Mark's head is pounding, and for once he isn't even filming.

The phone rings. _Just what I need._ Mark thinks, grimacing in anticipation of his mother's piercing voice and incessant nagging to stream from his answering machine and add to the throbbing in his brain. He hears his own voice, as well as Roger's, droning "Speeeaaaaak."

And then… was that _hospital_? Okay, he definitely heard the word _severe_. "Stop. STOP! Everybody stop playing your fucking instruments!" Mark growls, frantically picking up the phone as he fights to catch his breath. His heart is pounding in his chest and his face is flushed. "Yes, this is Mark Cohen." As he continues to speak into the phone, his speech becomes more staggered, harder to get out. "Yes. Oh…oh, okay. Yea, yea…I, I'll be there. I…yea, th – thanks."

As Mark hangs up the phone he appears lost. He looks up and the entire band is staring at him in anticipation, waiting for him to speak, to explain. "I…" He says, at a loss for words. He looks confused, as if he can't comprehend what is happening. "…Hospital…Anna…yea…"

Roger looks horrified. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Mark says, hazily. He blinks a few times. Then, he walks to his room to get something, comes out, mechanically puts on his coat and scarf, and leaves. All the while the loft is completely silent save for the light pitter of Mark's movements. The change in mood is somewhat insane.

* * *

Mark sits in a chair at Anna's side, the fingers of one hand laced with hers. With the other hand he strokes her hair gently. Her head is turned towards him, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Hers are calm and beautiful. His are bloodshot and wet.

"How can you be so calm?" He asks, his voice hushed but slightly angry. He's not sure whom he's angry with, though. Is it Anna for being so damn serene at such a heartbreaking moment? Is it himself for not giving her enough in the time he's had? Is it the god he doesn't believe in for doing this to her? It might even be Roger, for being so goddamn irresistible and forcing Mark's subconscious to focus less on Anna than he should. And maybe, just maybe, it's all four.

Anna shrugs, as much as she can lying in a hospital bed with various tubes connected to her body. When she speaks, its clear that it's taking a lot out of her. "It's just that I've accepted it. There's no use being upset over the inevitable. You'll drive yourself crazy, Mark."

Mark looks at her, hard. He can hardly believe what she's saying. "You expect me to not be upset?"

"I…I don't know. I guess I'm glad that you are. It's…comforting."

His tone lightens, and gentle tears begin to flow down his cheeks causing fresh streaks over the almost dry stains. "You're silly. Of course I'm upset. I love you."

"I know. But…please try to calm down. I want you to be _you_. I mean…I'm dying, Marky."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. I don't understand why it's not okay to talk about it. You want me to not think about it? If I don't think about it then we won't say goodbye. Is that what you want?"

"No. No, I just… it's morbid. It's…it's too sad." He sighs and shakes his head. "I'm not ready to think about it."

"We don't have enough time for you to not be ready to think about it."

"I don't understand. There has to be something they can do. You were so healthy…you're so young. You're young and beautiful and perfect and I need you."

"There's nothing. A year ago, they could have done everything. I could be normal. But nobody paid enough attention then. It's over with. And I don't have much time."

"But it's not fair!" Mark cries out in anger, slamming his fist into the mattress. The dull pat is causes leaves him unsatisfied and he takes both hands and digs his fingers into the underside of the bed until his veins pop out.

"Mark, calm down." He doesn't respond, doesn't move, doesn't even look up. "Mark. Mark? Mark!" Each time Anna says his name it's with growing intensity. Finally with her now free hand she takes a finger and pulls his chin up lightly with it, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Marky, dear. You need to calm down. I know it's quick. I know it's a lot to handle, and I know it's not fair. But sweety," She smiles slightly, trying to lighten the mood, "That's life."

Mark allows himself to smile back at Anna, taking comfort in her lightheartedness, as he always has. He leans in to kiss her gently. She allows him to deepen the kiss, but he can tell by her response that she's very weak. It breaks his heart. When she pulls away to break the kiss, she looks weary.

"Mark, we have to talk." She seems sad. There's something she needs to say, but she's not particularly excited about it.

"What is it, sweety?" Mark asks gently, stroking her cheek.

"This is hard for me to say, because I want to be selfish. I want to know that I'm you're only one, and that you love me more than life itself."

"You are." He kisses her on the cheek. "I do."

"I need you to listen to me, okay?" Anna pauses, waiting for Mark to nod. She sighs heavily before continuing. "You should be with him, when I'm gone."

His brow furrows. "I…what?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Marky. Not now. I've ignored it for so long because I love you and I'm selfish and you mean the world to me. But Roger is in love with you, and you're in love with him. You should be together. Just, don't forget about me, okay?" She starts to break now, the tears welling in her eyes. Mark can't do much but stare at her and take in what she's saying as she continues. "It's funny. I always pictured this differently. Roger was supposed to go first. He's supposed to be the one in this bed."

"Anna, I…"

"It's okay, Mark. I just…" Full on sobbing begins, and Mark pulls her close to him, not quite caring at this moment if his shirt gets ruined. It's an awkward position to hold someone in, with him in a sitting position and her lying down, but somehow it works. "I can't be selfish in this. I wish that I could, because I want so very much to be your only one, but I also need you to be happy. Your life has to go on without me, and I know that. And you should be happy. I can't tell you how many times I thought of leaving – of letting you be with him. I thought that you would be together for a couple of years, and then Roger would die, and you and I could be together and there would be nothing in our way anymore." Through her tears she laughs a bit, sounding slightly insane. "Is that crazy?"

Mark pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. "Anna, I–"

"I know. That was a horrible thing to say." She says, averting his eyes.

"Well, yes. But it's okay. Just look at me." He squeezes her hand gently to get her attention, then holds it affectionately as their eyes meet. She's taking deep breaths now, calming down. "Okay, I'm not going to deny that what you said is true. I owe that to you. But I also need you to know that even if I do love Roger, it doesn't change the fact that I love you. I really do love you." He pauses to watch her reaction. He has to make sure she believes him. "I… I have a ring."

"A ring?"

"Yea…I…" He pulls the modest ring box out of his pocket and opens it. "I was going to propose. Next Thursday."

Anna's face brightens. "Oh," she lets out, shocked. "That kind of ring." Then she gets a pained expression and the tears begin to well up again. "It's really pretty." She says, the heightened emotion evident in her voice.

Mark smiles sadly. "I thought you would like it."

"Do you think…" she begins, softly. "You think I could wear it? I want to wear it. Let me be the future Mrs. Mark Cohen, if only for a short while." The words are hard to get out as subtle tears flow down her cheeks. Mark nods, enthusiastic but slow, and slips the ring onto her finger. "But don't let them bury me with it, okay? When I die, you should take it back."

"But why? I thought – "

"You need the money. You should return it."

"No, it's ok. I want you to have it."

"No, Mark. It's no use to me in the ground. Promise me you'll get the money back."

"Are you sure?"

"Yea." She smiles at him and he knows she means it.

"I love you so much." He says, and kisses her on the cheek.

Anna died early the next morning. Mark had spent the night filming her, immortalizing her last few moments of life, and the few hours in which she was his fiancée. It's a piece of film he keeps to himself. He watches it often, but he will never show a soul.

* * *

Mark carefully finds his way into the loft around seven AM, doing everything in his power to make as little noise as possible, only to find Roger sitting at the kitchen table wide awake. Mark is clearly distraught, with his flushed face, bloodshot eyes, and fresh trails of water down his cheeks, but he's not as bad as he thought he would be. He'd gotten most of his tears and frustrations out during the night, when she had still been alive.

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep." Roger looks up at Mark to see his sad, disheveled best friend, and puts a hand on Mark's arm to show he's there for emotional support. "How is she?"

"She's gone." He says it simply. He can hardly believe something so monumental can be conveyed with such a small, simplex sentence.

"Oh god, Mark." Is all Roger can say as he stands and pulls Mark into the tightest embrace Mark has ever experienced. Mark buries his face in Roger's neck as the hot tears begin to pour from him, and he just can't believe he has so many tears left inside of him. "This sucks." Roger says, as his own tears begin to fall. And it's such a Roger thing to say. Blunt and inappropriate. But at that moment Mark is just so grateful that it is Roger saying it, and that Roger is here for him, that it actually brings comfort to him.

After their tears subside a little, and the death grip they hold on each other loosens, Mark pries himself from Roger softly and gives him a long, hard glance.

"What?" Roger asks, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his beautiful filmmaker.

"I just have to know. Is it true, what Anna said –"

"She told you?" Roger asks. His face has fallen, and suddenly he is staring at his feet.

"She only did because –"

"That's why you've been avoiding my touch and crap? It creeps you out, I knew it."

"Do you remember that kiss?"

"How could I forget it? It was incredible. It's all I've thought about for the past six months."

"Me too." Mark admits, feeling ashamed and blushing furiously.

"Wait. Does that mean…"

"Yes."

"But what about…"

"I loved her. A part of me always will. She took a piece of me with her. But she told me to be with you. She wants me to be happy. Her dying wish was basically for us to be together. That, and for me to get the money back for the ring. She was so fucking selfless. That's crazy, right? On her deathbed she tells the love of her life to be with the love of his life when she's gone? What is that? How can someone be so fucking selfless in death? It should have been her moment, not mine."

"Calm down, Marky." Roger pulls Mark back into an embrace, this time it is less tight, but more soothing. He rubs little circles on Mark's back. "It's going to be alright."

"Don't call me Marky!" Mark snaps. "That was her thing."

"I…I'm sorry." Roger is somewhat startled by this sudden change in tone.

"No, no. I'm sorry. I…don't know where that came from." Mark settles back into Roger's arms, and Roger resumes rubbing light circles on Mark's back, trying to soothe him. As Mark relaxes into him, Roger tentatively begins to kiss his neck, and when he receives no protest he moves to make their lips meet, but Mark turns away. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"But I thought –"

"I know. I just can't right now. I want to be with you, Roger, but give me time, okay? I promise we'll be together, just not today. Not on the day she died."

And Roger can accept that – can understand that. "Okay." Roger says nodding his head in comprehension. He can wait a few days if it means spending the rest of his life with Mark. Because if Mark really feels the way he says he does, Roger knows that what he and Mark have will be beautiful. Mark makes Roger feel alive. Roger has never loved anyone or anything more in his life. "I can wait." He says, and they hold each other like that for most of the rest of the day.

It is the first time of many they will hold each other like that. It the only time Mark will refuse Roger's kiss. And it is truly the start of something extraordinary. Something beautiful. It isn't always perfect. Roger fucks things up and Mark holds things in, and at times agreeing on things can be such a difficult task. But it's the little imperfections that make their love strong; that make them appreciate each other that much more. So no, it isn't always perfect. But if you ask Mark and Roger, they'd kindly disagree.


End file.
